


The Longest Night of the Year

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cabins, Character Death Fix, Dancing, First Dates, Forests, Humor, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Male Slash, Matchmaking, Party, Poetry, Romance, Slash, Slow Dancing, Snow, Winter, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6533464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Written for Secret Snarry Swap 15</b> (and posted here very late, sorry) - prompt 5: Although he's been exonerated and hailed as a hero, Severus feels he is still hated by most in the Wizarding world. When Lucius demands Severus attend the Malfoys' Solstice Ball with a date, he turns to the only person that has never wavered in his support - Harry Potter. Romance ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Longest Night of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> **Archiving:** Nowhere except here. And please, no translations either. No exceptions!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and various publishers own all rights to this fandom and its characters. This was created for fannish, non-profit pleasure only.
> 
>  **Music I had in mind for the dancing:**  
>  Chopin's Waltz in a minor, Op. 34, No. 2  
> Vas - In the Garden of Souls  
> Vas - Amrita (Churning the Sea of Milk)
> 
> The poem Severus recites is Robert Frost's _"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"_.

It began with a Malfoy, as so many fateful experiences in Severus' life had done. In this case with Lucius Malfoy, who visited him on a chilly November evening, both unannounced and unexpectedly, to throw a very polite refusal of his Solstice Ball Invitation at his feet.

"What brings you to my humble abode, Lucius?" Severus asked, as if he didn't know, not even pausing in bringing his teacup to his lips. He barely glanced at the scrunched up note on his carpet.

"Your stubbornness, Severus, what else?" Lucius gave his worn but comfortable living room furniture a disdainful look, but then sat in a slightly ragged Chesterfield anyway, crossing his legs elegantly. "That was your third refusal of my invitation."

Severus sipped slowly, then held the cup between his hands for warmth and looked at his annoyed visitor. "One might think you would have, by now, learned not to bother sending them."

A one-sided smirk tugged up Lucius' lip. "As you might, by now, have learned that I do not take 'no' for an answer."

"In this case, you will have to." Severus set down his cup. "And now, _if_ you don't mind--" He stood to show his guest to the door.

Lucius leaned back in the armchair, making it clear he was content to remain attached to the inferior piece of furniture until he got his way. 

'Blasted Malfoys,' Severus thought.

"You've received an Order of Merlin, Second Class. You've been lauded as a hero. _Witch Weekly_ featured your picture in their 'Most Eligible Bachelors' column. I believe the Minister of Magic himself has invited you to a family occasion. And yet, you continue to act as if you have reason to hide away in this..." Lucius sneered at the four walls which were, in his opinion, not only unfit for a wizard but far too close together, "... hovel." 

"In this hovel," Severus began calmly, sitting down again, "I do not have to endure congratulatory handshakes accompanied by sneering faces - yours aside, you will hunt me down even here; hate mail fluttering into my mailbox along with invitations and imbecilic love notes; and small children scampering to the four winds at the sight of me, while their parents give me a tight-lipped thank you."

Lucius snickered. "Who would have thought that you, of all men, would turn cowardly, after having juggled two powerful wizards for years?"

Severus raised his brows at the choice of verb. "If you wish to call it cowardice, so be it. I call it common sense."

"Well," Lucius said. "We'll just have to disagree on that point. But I think you will agree that you cannot remain locked in your shabby ivory tower forever. You will have to face the world at some point. Look at me - I'm no more popular with certain segments of Wizarding society than you are. Do you see me wilting away in my drawing room?"

"Lucius, it may be hard for you to believe, but there are some of us who value our privacy more highly than public appearances to flaunt ourselves."

"Have you no better reason for your refusal to come to the ball?" Lucius asked, as if the entire previous conversation had been quite meaningless.

Severus sighed. "If you must know, your insistence on my bringing a date rather cinches matters."

"Why?" Severus gave him a long-suffering look, to which Lucius reacted with, "Granted, you may not be the kind of man mothers everywhere aspire to snatching up as a son-in-law, but you do have a certain Gothic charm about which a more independent-minded young lady - or young lad, in your case - might wax poetic."

"Gothic charm," Severus repeated drily.

"Quite." Lucius looked at him thoughtfully. "There must be someone whose company you could endure for an evening." The faintest hint of colour rose to Severus' cheeks, and Lucius fought down a smirk. "I see there is."

"He would never agree. There's a wide gulf between publically declaring me an ally and friend, and attending a ball with me."

"Well, then." Lucius rose, looking satisfied. "I will be expecting you and Potter at Malfoy Manor on the 21st of next month. The ball will of course take place in the grounds, as usual, with all the trimmings you might expect."

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but Lucius had already swept up his cloak and disappeared through his fireplace, presumably back to Wiltshire to gloat about having had the last word. For all the good it would do him; Potter would scoff at the invitation.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron with Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville, when his owl Prince sought him out noisily, dropping an envelope in his bowl of soup.

Harry snatched it up, cursing, and quickly dabbed the soup off it with his napkin. He had recognised the familiar handwriting at once.

"Blimey, Harry, he's worse than Errol."

Harry shrugged. He didn't care about the owl's clumsiness. The moment he had seen the little black-banded owl with the onyx eyes, he had fallen in love with him; it was a bonus that he reminded him in no way of Hedwig.

"Who is it from, Harry?" Hermione asked, craning her neck.

"It must be something urgent," Neville mused, as if Harry's owl would have divined that somehow and thus rushed to deliver it.

Harry smiled to himself. Only Luna made no comment, simply looking at him with her head tilted dreamily, content to wait until he would either share the news or not.

The double-folded note was written in an elegant, steady hand:

Dear Mr Potter,  
I realise I am presuming much, sending this to you. However, as we appear to have acquired a certain acceptance of each other's person, past and personality, I hope you will be kind enough to accompany me to the Malfoy Solstice Ball this December 21st. If you are amenable, please contact me to finalise the details.  
Regards,  
Severus Snape.

Harry swallowed hard. He held the note to his chest and took a deep gulp of his butter beer. Then he read it again. His heart was beating like a drum.

"You've gone pink, Harry," Neville informed him. This made Hermione giggle, while Ron looked confused.

"You look happy."

Harry looked at Luna with a smile. "Yeah. I think... maybe..." He handed her the note.

She read it with great attention to every word. "That's lovely, Harry." Her wide eyes and smile made her look almost as happy as he felt.

"Go on, Harry, don't keep it secret," Ron demanded. Hermione looked a bit put out.

Harry realised they were probably both a little offended that Luna got to read it first, but after all, she already knew how he felt about... him. He had let it slip during an interview for the Quibbler, but it had of course not made it onto the printed page; Luna was not Rita Skeeter. There was also the fact that he wasn't altogether sure if Hermione and Ron would understand.

When Luna returned the invitation to him, he hesitated a moment, but then gave it to Hermione, who read it with Ron and Neville peering over her shoulders.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Will you go?" She didn't look quite as surprised as Harry had expected.

Neville assessed him for a moment. "I reckon he's going to."

"Blimey," said Ron. "You realise, Harry, this might be a date Snape is asking you on?"

Harry drank down the rest of his butter beer, set down the empty glass, and smiled at his friends. "Oh Merlin, I hope so!"

* * *

Harry had been sorely tempted to send his acceptance in person, but he thought he should keep his enthusiasm in check. After all, Snape might simply be inviting him out of gratitude for his public support. In which case, the intensely private man would not welcome having Harry barge into his home to hug and kiss him for asking him out.

He sent his reply the day after receiving Snape's invitation, carefully writing it in the same formal, if slightly less impersonal, style. And there was one other thing he decided to do differently:

Dear Mr Snape,

Thank you for your kind invitation. I would be pleased and honoured to accept it. Please let me know what arrangements I should be making, if any. I look forward to seeing you again soon.  
Yours,  
Harry Potter. 

He closed the envelope and gave it to Prince somewhat nervously. If pressed, he could always claim he was simply being a little more casual. He patted the small black owl on its ruffled head and prayed he would make it to Snape's place without getting lost.

* * *

When the day came, they both apparated to the front gate of Malfoy Manor separately, as arranged, getting there within seconds of each other nonetheless. 

Harry's heart was pounding as he looked at him. He had not seen Snape since the presentation of his Order of Merlin and the round of pesky interviews following afterwards. It had been nearly three months, and he supposed what they said about absence making the heart grow fonder must be true. 

It had been bad enough that the man had disappeared after giving Harry his memories, letting him think him dead while all the while, Harry had begun to watch his memories obsessively, daily, falling in love with Snape more intensely than he had ever distrusted and despised him. Were it not for that fact, he might have hexed him, once he finally decided to pop up out of hiding again. Instead, he had fallen even harder on realising he wasn't in love with a mere ghost.

"Good to see you again, sir," Harry finally managed to say, not wanting to look like a complete moron for just standing there and staring at the man - but really, what could he expect, decked out in his usual black from head to foot—except that this time, it was warm velvet with silver accents everywhere, from the snake brooch at the collar to the diamond-shaped cufflinks, the glove and boot straps.

"Mr Potter." Snape nodded. "It's good to see you too. I admit, I was surprised you accepted my invitation."

Since Snape's return from the dead, their once-animosity had turned into mutual respect and a slightly awkward formality. Outwardly at least. Inwardly, Harry for one wanted nothing more than to throw himself at the man, but Merlin knew what Snape would do then. He settled for addressing his statement of surprise.

"I was surprised you invited me, but pleased." He smiled, and received a slightly tight smile in return. He could have sworn Snape's eyes moved over him appreciatively, but he put it down to wishful thinking. Still, Luna and Hermione had helped him choose the smooth green and black robes and the golden griffin cloak clasp - the last to avoid looking too overtly Slytherin to impress Snape.

"Shall we go?" Snape said. "I believe all the ridiculous commotion by the pond is our destination." Snape seemed to hesitate for a moment before offering his arm to Harry.

Harry didn't hesitate at all. He took it, resting his hand on Snape's forearm. He felt the warmth of skin and the hardness of bone under the soft velvet and gulped. This would be a long evening, if he couldn't get his libido under control, not to mention the last one he would be asked to spend in Snape's company.

They walked along the cleared path towards the Malfoys' pond - positioned in the centre of the vast, flat gardens. Facing the house on the opposite side of the grounds was a large pine forest, maybe 300 metres away. The entire landscape was thickly covered in snow, except for the cleared path, the water of course, and patches of earth around the base of the huge bonfires arranged around the pond. They lit up the darkening sky with columns of sparks travelling upwards, aided by the white and gold lanterns placed at the edges of a marble dance floor and banquet table. Over the pond itself floated enchanted gold and silver candles.

Harry realised the entire area must be magically enclosed for, inside the al fresco ballroom, people were mingling and wandering about without their cloaks, showing no signs of discomfort. And it was a fiercely cold evening. His suspicion was confirmed when they stepped past a pair of dragon statues and were greeted by pleasant warmth.

"Severus, there you are. Welcome, Mr Potter." Lucius Malfoy greeted them graciously. "Delighted to see you both. Make yourselves at home." He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating the entire gardens.

The Malfoy Estate had never been Severus' idea of a home, but he smiled tightly. "Of course, Lucius. Thank you for the invitation."

Lucius chuckled. "Well, at least you did finally accept it." Harry raised his eyebrows at this. "Oh, did he not tell you, Mr Potter? He turned it down three times, citing the most ludicrous reasons." Malfoy looked him up and down. "It seems he finally found a compelling one to accept."

"Mr Potter, would you care for a drink?" Severus interrupted the flow of words, steering Harry away from Lucius without waiting for an answer. Behind them, Lucius was still chuckling.

Harry allowed the diversion. He didn't need to ask about the reasons, he'd known Snape long enough to guess. Though he couldn't help but wonder about Malfoy's insinuations.

A house-elf popped up in their path and took their cloaks and gloves, assuring them it was an honour to look after them while they enjoyed themselves.

Once they stood by the banquet table, sipping glasses of fruit punch, Harry offered hesitantly, "There's no need to keep calling me Mr Potter, sir. You know my first name."

Severus looked at him, considering. "Very well. I suppose you might as well call me Severus then."

"I'd like that," Harry said, smiling. He looked around at the other guests for the first time, recognising a few Ministry officials, some former Slytherin students—who were glaring at him and Snape alike—and not many others. He didn't exactly move in the same social circle as the Malfoys, even if they no longer kept company with Death Eaters; he did not count Snape as one.

"The Malfoys must be cultivating a whole new set of acquaintances. I must confess, I barely know anyone here," Snape said then, as if he'd been reading Harry's thoughts. "And I can't say I'm sorry to say so."

Harry grinned. "I was just thinking the same thing. I ran into some of them at Ministry receptions, but I got sick of going, so if I know these peoples' names, I've forgotten them." He chuckled. "Sorry in advance, if I embarrass you in front of anyone."

Snape snorted. "Rest assured, Harry, no one is going to walk up to me for a chat nor, you'll find, to you while I'm nearby."

It took Harry a moment to switch from feeling warm and rather pleased by the way Snape said his name to digesting the rest of the statement. "Oh. Well. In that case, Severus, please don't leave my side for a moment."

Looking surprised, Snape slowly said, "I won't."

Harry paused in the process of raising his glass to his lips, and their eyes met for a long moment.

The spell was broken when someone clumsily knocked against Harry's elbow, and he had to struggle to keep his glass from spilling. And then Lucius Malfoy's voice boomed out over the assembled crowd with the aid of a Sonorous Charm.

"Welcome, my friends, to the first Solstice Ball of the _new_ Wizarding world. As you all know, the Winter Solstice is a day for renewal and new beginnings, so what better time for us all to get acquainted and re-acquainted?" He smiled into the crowd. "Enjoy the music and dancing once our musicians arrive, and the little surprise that awaits us all after dark. And meanwhile, enjoy the banquet and feast to your hearts' content."

"What would that man do without the drama of being the centre of attention?" Severus murmured, causing Harry to chuckle.

The speech finished with, "Let the feast begin."

It gave Harry a funny feeling to hear a phrase Dumbledore had used on so many first evenings back at Hogwarts. Luckily, he had no time to dwell on the old grief, for no sooner had the words finished than a crowd of wizards and witches made a beeline for the banquet table in front of which they were standing.

"Shall we depart until the first wave of pillaging is over?" Snape suggested.

Harry agreed all too happily, allowing himself to be drawn back and to a bench under a large, overhanging willow - branches now bare due to the season.

They watched everyone stuffing themselves for some time, Snape interjecting the odd dry remark about greed and gluttony which made Harry laugh out loud.

Eventually, the crowd thinned to a trickle, and they went to pick out some treats for themselves. The selection was surprisingly rustic for the Malfoys, and Harry commented on it.

"No Malfoy will ever pass up luxury for tradition, but the Solstice Ball goes back to the very beginnings of the Wizarding world, and while Lucius is prone to adding some flamboyant touches here and there, the feast has always been very traditional," Severus explained, while they were arranging chicken legs, potatoes, pickles and pieces of roasted pumpkin on their plates. "But I think you'll find there will be fireworks to outshine the bonfires, and probably floating pine trees instead of branches of mistletoe."

Harry laughed. He had been listening attentively, wishing he'd paid as much attention at school, rather than to have let his suspicions of Snape distract him from learning. The man was actually a good teacher. The mention of mistletoe suddenly caught his imagination. He wanted to ask about it, but feared Severus might take to his heels at the implications.

They returned to their bench, eating while watching the other guests. The Malfoys - all three of them decked out in finery, of course - were making the rounds, chatting with a small group here and there, patting backs and shaking hands. At one point, Draco spotted them and started towards them, but Lucius held him back and whispered something to him, which caused Draco's eyes to widen and look back at them. Then he smiled briefly and merely waved to them from a distance instead.

The friendly, casual gesture was so unexpected from Draco, Harry nearly got a piece of chicken stuck in his throat. He was fighting a coughing fit just as the musicians arrived, bearing an astounding array of traditional instruments such as lutes, simple drums, harps, flutes and some Harry had never even seen.

Severus clearly thought he was struggling not to laugh. "Lucius would ship in an entire orchestra," he said mockingly. "Gone are the days of the lone troubadour."

This did make Harry laugh, and he recovered his composure, and his breath, only after several firm slaps of Snape's hand on his back.

"This ball is a lot more entertaining than the others I've endured so far," Harry finally managed to say. He dared a quick smile at Severus. "It must be the company."

Severus glanced at him, looking surprised but pleased. "I'm glad. Though I must admit, I'm surprised you did not have other plans for this evening."

"I'm not exactly a social butterfly," said Harry.

"Perhaps not," Snape said. Then he seemed to consider carefully how to put his next statement. "To be honest, I fully expected you to be at least engaged to Miss Weasley or some other young lady by now. Or young gentleman."

Harry blushed. He wondered how much to tell Severus. "After the final battle, I spent a lot of time on my own, thinking about things, regretting a lot I'd said and done and wishing I could have another chance to--" Here he stopped, not knowing how to continue without saying 'be with you'.

"My apologies. I shouldn't have pried," said Snape.

"No, it's fine. You didn't." Harry met his eyes. "The simple truth is, I became so obsessed with just one thing that could never be, it blotted out any other interests."

"I hope you didn't plot how to become the next Dark Lord?" Snape said jokingly, clearly attempting to lighten the mood again.

Harry laughed. "That's one temptation I can easily resist, thanks."

"That's a relief." Snape smiled briefly. "Few with your magical abilities could resist."

Harry felt a warm glow at the compliment, especially from this man he'd come to admire so much. "Have you ever been tempted almost beyond endurance?" he asked, then clarified. "Not to become a Dark Lord, but by anything?"

Severus looked at him with great intensity, and then softly murmured, "Yes." He did not break their gaze, but when Harry's eyes widened, he quickly added, as if coming to his senses, "I joined the Death Eaters, if you recall."

"Oh," Harry said, sounding disappointed. He averted his eyes. "That."

Snape snorted. "Yes, that. Had you forgotten?"

"No, though I try to. As I'm sure you do."

To this, Snape said nothing at first, but then he admitted, "Some things are impossible to forget, and none more so than one's own mistakes."

"Tell me about it." Harry placed a hand hesitantly on his forearm, and when Snape met his eyes, he said, "You might not be able to forget, but you should forgive yourself."

"The Wizarding world is unable to forgive me, and I can't say I blame them."

Harry wanted to deny that, but it would have been ridiculous, considering the hate-filled eyes which lingered on Snape every so often, and the way conversations stopped when he was near and resumed with extra venom as soon as he turned his back. "I've forgiven you," he said, adding with a smile, "but I think you know that. It's why you asked me to be your date."

If Severus was surprised by that statement, he hid it well. "I might have asked you because it might help my popularity to be seen with the Saviour of the Wizarding world."

Harry laughed. "No. You don't care about popularity, least of all with this lot." Harry nodded his head towards the crowd slowly heading onto the dance floor. The orchestra had begun to play, and neither of them had even noticed.

Snape raised a brow. "You've always been more perceptive than I've given you credit for."

"I wish." Harry laughed again, both at himself and because the compliment made him happy.

It was then they noticed someone approaching them purposefully. Someone from the Ministry, if Harry remembered correctly. The man was a meek, and yet somehow shifty looking, wizard, and something about him made Harry's skin crawl. "Oh oh, watch out," he hissed, just loud enough for Severus to hear him.

"Mr Potter." He had reached them, and he beamed at Harry, entirely ignoring Severus' presence. "Would you care to dance?"

Harry blinked. "No, thanks." He turned his head towards Severus again, assuming the other would just turn around and leave, but that was not to be.

"I couldn't help noticing you're just sitting and talking, and this is a ball after all, so I think you really should--"

"Mr Potter clearly does not care to dance with you," Severus said, in a low, warning tone.

The Ministry wizard turned on him and his pig-like eyes did their best to glare. "What does it have to do with you, Snape?"

"It has everything to do with him," said Harry firmly. "I'm here with Severus." He didn't notice Severus' surprised glance at him.

The other snorted. "Really? You expect me to believe Snape here is actually your date? Everyone just assumes you needed an ogre to keep your fans at bay."

Harry rose and stepped up close to the man. "I couldn't care less what you or, for that matter, _everyone_ believe. But there's one thing you definitely should believe, and that is that I won't hesitate to use an Unforgivable on you if you don't slink right back into the hole you crawled out of."

The man opened his mouth to protest, but between the fury in Harry's eyes and the fact that he might, just might, really be on a date with a notorious dark wizard—redeemed or not—he decided to flee while he could.

Severus was chuckling, and Harry turned to look at him in stunned surprise. When this made him chuckle harder, Harry joined in. He couldn't remember ever seeing Severus Snape thoroughly amused, and something about seeing him this way made him immensely happy. He was about to sit down next to him again, but Severus shook his head and stood, holding out his right hand. " _Would_ you care to dance, Harry?"

Harry beamed at him. "With you? Yes." There appeared on Snape's cheeks just the faintest tinge of colour. Faint enough that Harry couldn't be sure he could really call it a blush, but he decided he would think of it that way.

People stepped out of the way as Severus led him onto the dance floor, eyes on them and conversations coming to a complete halt as everyone forgot whatever bits of gossip had kept them entertained thus far that evening.

In the distance, their hosts were watching and, after a quick instruction given by Lucius, Draco walked up to the orchestra and passed it on.

The music stopped for a few seconds, during which Harry and Severus looked at each other indecisively, and then began again, this time playing a slow, romantic waltz.

"Considerate of Lucius to provide us with something simple."

"Lucius?" Harry asked, when Severus' hand came to rest at the small of his back, while he took the raised left hand.

"He's standing over there, looking pleased with himself." Severus tipped his head slightly in their host's direction, and Harry followed his gaze, finding the words confirmed.

The music swelled and, even though neither Severus nor Harry were exactly what might be called a born dancer, it carried them along and, in no time at all, they were sweeping across the dance floor quite oblivious to wizards and witches quickly stepping out of the way. It took well over a minute before anyone else began to dance again, but by then they had found a perfect rhythm. Only then did it occur to Harry that for all the trouble he had leading in a dance, being led felt far, far easier.

The waltz was soon over, sooner than Harry wanted it to be, and the next song began with just the tinkling of chimes; and then slowly, a wistful instrument Harry couldn't name, but he thought it sounded Middle Eastern, began a simple melody. By the time percussion joined in and added an intense, yet sensually slow, rhythm, he fully expected Severus to lead him off the floor again. He for one had no idea how to dance to this primal music, glancing at the people around them for guidance.

Then he felt Severus' arms slide around his middle and draw him closer, and he looked up into the dark eyes and simply mirrored the languid, undulating movements, raising his hands to Severus' shoulders. They were dancing so close, every part of their bodies touched at one time or another, and their locked gaze never broke. More instruments joined, and a hauntingly beautiful voice began to sing strange incantations. The pace of the song never increased, only the beat underneath changed subtly, growing somehow breathless. The song worked its way towards a crescendo, but so leisurely, it seemed to go on and on.

Harry didn't mind one bit. Severus was holding him in his arms, and had they been lying on a bed, they would have looked like lovers writhing together. Meanwhile, the dark eyes were mesmerising in their intensity, dropping to his lips once in a while, and Harry had to lower his head to keep from craning his neck and seeking Severus' lips for a kiss.

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that the musicians were wizards, and he felt every fibre of his being respond to the magic of the music, and to the feel of Severus so close, so real. Never in a million years would he have dared to hope for this outside of a dream. The music had clearly cast a spell on Severus too, for the sensual being moving with and against Harry bore no resemblance to the stern, strict teacher he had known all those years. But had he ever known him at all? Perhaps this was the real Severus Snape. The thought was heady and exciting, and Harry's breath caught in his throat.

The song reached its peak with the notes undulating like the bodies on the dance floor, and the singer repeating the same slow, obscure incantation over and over until eventually, it ended after ten minutes, or an hour, or an eternity, flowing gently into the next song, which began almost like a lullaby, the same gentle voice singing right from the start. And Harry found himself held even tighter. He smiled softly and dared to place his hands around the back of Severus' neck and rest his head on his shoulder. 

The dance, such as it was, required no concentration or skill, so he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed swaying in Severus' arms, inhaling the warm, sensual scent of his skin where his pale neck met the collar of his robes. Severus' hair caressed Harry's fingers where they lay against his nape, and Harry could feel the steady heart beat against his own chest. He sighed contentedly, thinking that he wouldn't mind at all if they stayed like this forever.

Soon, the music rose again, the beat increasing slowly and the exotic instruments beginning a new, exciting dialogue with each other and the solitary voice. Harry's only source of discomfort was the fact that it would soon be impossible to hide the fact that he was painfully aroused, no matter how carefully he moved against Severus.

As if having decided to both rescue and annoy Harry, Lucius Malfoy's voice boomed out with another Sonorous Charm, effectively stopping the orchestra and jolting him from the cocoon of Severus' embrace.

"The longest night of the year has fallen, my friends," Malfoy proclaimed. "It is time."

"For what?" Harry murmured, drowsy with contentment. He looked up into Severus' face, not removing his hands from around his neck, and saw a strange, languid expression there. Severus' eyes looked blacker than ever.

"The fireworks, I suspect," Severus replied just as quietly, continuing to hold him for another moment before slowly stepping back until Harry's hands slid down his arms and over his hands.

And then it began. The first shower of rockets in green, blue, purple, gold and silver drew everyone's eyes skywards, with oohs and aahs of delight. Fireworks in the Wizarding world were naturally rather more impressive than the Muggle variety - aided by magic as they were - and Lucius had outdone himself to impress his guests. The sky filled with a thousand temporary stars, not to mention entire constellations and magical creatures skilfully reconstructed; the smell of sulphur was heavy in the air, and the noise was deafening.

Harry was staring up delightedly when he felt a hand take his. He turned to look at Severus, who didn't bother trying to speak over the cheers, crackles and whooshes, and simply tipped his head towards the nearby woods and tugged on Harry's hand. Harry smiled and nodded, and allowed himself to be drawn away from the crowd.

They soon made it out of the enchanted space, and the chill of the winter's night surrounded them all at once like a blanket of ice. Harry, for one, didn't care; Severus was still holding his hand, and he felt anything but cold inside. They quickly kept stomping through the snow until the vast crowd of wizards behind them was just a mass of bodies and their cheers were nothing more than a distant mumble of voices. And then they stood in front of the Malfoy Woods.

Severus summoned their cloaks and gloves, and they wrapped up warmer, and then they looked up at the thickly crowding pines covered with snow; more soft flakes, glistening in the moonlight, were tumbling down between them, and it seemed impossible to imagine that there was room left in there for more snow.

"These woods have always been my favourite part of the Malfoy estate," Severus told him. "They remind me of a poem I'm rather fond of. A poem about temptation."

"Tell me," Harry prompted softly.

Severus began to recite, his eyes not leaving the pines: 

"Whose woods these are I think I know.  
His house is in the village though;  
He will not see me stopping here  
To watch his woods fill up with snow. 

My little horse must think it queer  
To stop without a farmhouse near  
Between the woods and frozen lake  
The darkest evening of the year. 

He gives his harness bells a shake  
To ask if there is some mistake.  
The only other sound's the sweep  
Of easy wind and downy flake. 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep."

It took Harry some moments to find his voice again. Severus' smooth, low recitation had all but put him in a trance. His voice was mesmerising. "That's really beautiful," he said huskily.

Severus faced him. "As far as I know, these woods are not infested with deadly creatures as the Forbidden Forest is. Which is not to say one could not lose oneself in there." Severus' voice was thoughtful, and he looked at Harry with a question in his eyes.

Harry smiled. "No deadly creatures? The Malfoys are slipping. Let's go in."

"Ever the intrepid Gryffindor," Severus said, but there was neither mockery nor disdain in his voice, as there might have been once. If anything, there was a note of admiration.

The night was cold and crisp, the moon seemed especially bright, and the stars sparkled on the clear, black blanket of sky. They could see, though not very far ahead, but they had nowhere in particular to go, and there was no rush as they made their way between the trees, following a path they suspected to be there, but which was so snowed over that they were really just walking wherever it was possible to do so.

The scent of the pines was enhanced by the chill in the air, and they both took deep lungfuls of breath as they walked. For some minutes, they didn't even speak, just wandering aimlessly, side by side, deeper and deeper into the woods.

Suddenly, Harry tripped over a gnarled root disguised by a layer of snow and, instantly, there was an arm around him, keeping him from falling face first into the snow.

"Thanks for saving me yet again." He laughed at himself. He looked up at Severus, whose face was quite close. There was enough moonlight to see his eyes, looking darker and more intense than Harry had ever seen them, even during their dance earlier. Harry's pulse sped up when Severus did not look away, and he held his breath when a gloved hand came up to rest on his cheek. 

"Are you going to kiss me?" he whispered, almost afraid to break the spell.

"I will, unless you stop me."

Harry smiled, but did not move in any way, and the dark eyes fell on his lips. Severus' face came closer as he leaned down and tilted his head, and when their cold lips met, Harry's eyes fluttered closed. For a few moments, they simply enjoyed the increasing warmth between their mouths. And then Harry pressed in closer, his arms winding around Severus' waist under his cloak. Severus' arm tightened around him, the hand leaving his cheek and cupping the back of his head. Parting Harry's lips with gentle insistence, Severus deepened the kiss, and Harry moaned into his mouth.

The cold night intensified the heat between them, each sensation amplified by the contrast. Severus' mouth was like fire, and Harry burned, even while stoking the flames with his tongue. Their gloved fingers scrambled as they tried to get even closer, somehow burrow inside each other. When Severus' mouth left his, Harry whimpered at the loss, but then the hot lips were on his cold cheek, and burning kisses were placed all over his face and down his neck.

He let his head fall back in a gesture of surrender, and Severus' tongue lashed the burning marks his lips must have made on the cold skin of Harry's neck.

"Severus," Harry sighed. He knew his fingers were digging too hard into Severus' back, and he slid his hands up, moving against him as they had done on the dance floor, except this time, their lips did meet, again and again, with a hunger that could only be the result of too many wasted years.

"When did this start?" Severus demanded breathlessly, and Harry wasn't sure which one of them he was asking. But he answered anyway.

"When I spent nearly every waking moment inside your memories," Harry gasped between kisses, "wishing I could somehow bring you back."

Severus cupped his face and stopped the frantic, seeking mouth. "Your obsession? It was me?"

Harry nodded, covering Severus' hands on his cheek. "Was. Is. And always will be. I wanted you back, Severus, to love you as you should have been loved all your life."

"I am back." Severus' lips curled into a soft smile.

"Yes, thank Merlin." Harry smiled. He took off his gloves and reached up to tenderly run a hand through Severus' hair. The hand was grasped and Severus held it to his lips, pressing them into the palm.

"I'm sorry I had to treat you the way I did all those years." Severus' words were unexpected.

Harry smiled. "I understand. And I was probably a pest anyway, always mistrusting and fighting you."

Severus took Harry's hand in both of his, keeping it warm between his gloved ones. "Less a pest than a temptation as you grew older."

Harry blushed. His heart missed a beat when he imagined a completely different kind of detention. "I had no idea," he said roughly.

"Luckily not," Severus said, and they shared a smile. "You have a knack for pushing me over the edge." Then Severus drew him in tight, and their lips met again for a long, deep kiss which left them both breathless.

"There's a gamekeeper's hut nearby. No one lives there, but it will be warm inside." Severus took Harry's hand, and they continued on down the snowy path.

After less than ten minutes, they found it - it was no bigger than Hagrid's hut, and it looked deserted, but the door opened easily, and with a few quick spells, they had a fire roaring in the stove and several candles lit, and took in the contents of the hut. It was spartan but cosy, with a small table and a set of wooden chairs, a stove just big enough to heat a kettle or a pot of soup on top, and a sturdy wooden cot covered with thick, comfortable looking blankets. Behind the cot, a small latticed window showed a view of the snow continuing to fall.

Harry looked at it and then at the bed. When he met Severus' eyes, he smiled.

Severus approached him, removing his gloves and cloak and throwing both over the back of one of the chairs. Harry copied him. When Severus reached him, he began to unbutton Harry's robes, starting at the collar and making his way down to the last one, before pushing them off his shoulders and leaving him standing in black trousers and a loose white shirt. Harry imitated him again, but his progress was slower. His fingers lingered on every inch of skin revealed - Severus was so pale, yet the candlelight bathed him in a soft glow and, along with his robes, Harry pushed back his shirt, revealing a lightly haired chest bearing scattered scars. He leaned in and kissed every scar, and Severus allowed it with closed eyes.

Then Harry's mouth was on his and, while they kissed, Severus removed Harry's shirt and drew him into his arms. Their skin had warmed inside the now heated hut, and their hands roamed over each other. Then Harry stepped back and, with a challenging smile, undid his trousers and pushed them down, along with his underwear. He bent over to remove both together with his boots and socks and took a few more steps back, towards the cot.

Severus' eyes moved over him like a caress of fire, taking in every inch of him. "You're exquisite," he said roughly.

Harry bit his lip, and looked Severus up and down meaningfully.

Taking the hint, Severus undid his trousers and, by the time he had moved up close to Harry again, they were both entirely naked.

Harry lay back on the cot and, with his arms open, gazed at Severus pleadingly.

And Severus moved fluidly into his arms. They kissed hungrily, gasping the ecstasy of the first sensation of being entirely skin on skin into each other's mouths. Harry slid his hands down Severus' back and pushed his hips up even while drawing him down hard. Severus groaned into his half open mouth, his right hand moving under Harry while he supported himself on his left elbow. He kneaded the firm flesh of Harry's buttocks, then ran his hand down the underside of a muscled thigh, drawing it up and out so they could feel each other's excitement even more intensely.

"Severus," Harry gasped, arching his neck, and Severus' mouth followed the tense line down over his Adam's apple, licking and biting every inch of skin in his path. 

Harry's fingers were in his hair, his legs like vices around Severus' hips, as they rutted against each other. He lifted Severus' head with gentle pressure, and his lips found Severus' mouth again. He parted it with his tongue, reaching inside and teasing its counterpart.

Severus ground hard against him, his exploring hand sliding further down and between Harry's legs. He gasped out a spell before resuming the kiss.

When a single, slick finger entered him, Harry cried out, but he did not tense up. Instead, he relaxed into the unfamiliar sensation, tightened his legs around Severus and undulated against him at a faster pace.

Severus countered every motion, his finger entering and sliding out of Harry in sync. He groaned into the sweet mouth when Harry's fingers raked down his back and, with a few more thrusts, he felt Harry arch against him. He angled his finger and growled out, "Come with me, Harry."

Harry moaned. His legs tensed as he shuddered against Severus and cried out his name. He was still riding high when Severus joined him with a groan.

They lay in each other's arms contentedly, waiting for their breathing to return to normal. Severus had shifted only far enough to not crush Harry, but no further away than Harry had let him. They stayed close enough to keep exchanging kisses, and whisper things into each other's ear.

"Don't ever leave me again," Harry murmured softly at one point.

"I can think of no single reason why I would want to," Severus whispered against his lips.

"A day for new beginnings," Harry mused with a soft smile.

Severus returned his smile, brushing an errant strand of hair from his flushed face. And then he set about making every single one of Harry's dreams come true. It was, after all, the longest night of the year.

 

THE END


End file.
